Sunday, November 11, 2007

San Francisco: Conquered

You may be familiar with the song, or social phrase, I Left My Heart in San Francisco. You may be less familiar, however, with a phrase like "I left my wallet/dignity/dinner in San Francisco/on the side of the cab". I saw it all.

My friend, Mark, drank many drinks. Subsequently, he wandered out of the club we were in and disappeared for a number of hours. Despite our many efforts to call him, we were awarded no response. It was decided best to find a taxi to get us back home. My friend, or "source", estimated $35-50 for the ride. We sat in steady rain on a busy street corner for 30 minutes trying to find a cab that would take us back to Belmont for less than $100. Apparently, my "source" is the equivalent of a fucking retard. Anyway, all 15 people were able to...eventually...find 3 taxis to take us back. We finagled our driver to give us the ride for $70. Just as we were getting ready to flag ours down, we saw Mark across the street; confused and worthless. We called him over and asked where he had been. The conversation went something like this:
"Hey (gurgle, gurgle) guys" he said with a surprising smile on his face.
"Mark, where the hell were you?"
"I--I--I fell asleep in a doorway."
"Where? How do you find a doorway and decide its a good idea to fall asleep?"
"I don't know. It was in that alley over there. I woke up and some bum was hangin out. We talked, but I don't even remember what he said."

It was at this point that his twin brother gave him a distinct look of disgust and our cab arrived. We got in and ventured the 25 minute drive. The driver, who was already somewhat displeased that he agreed to drive us that distance, became further displeased 15 minutes down the road. Mark's head was bobbing in the front seat. Bobbing, bobbing bobbing. Then Mark's window rolled down. His head still bobbing. Then on the outside of Kevin's window we saw a stream of bodily fluid quickly dry in the cold night air. Vomit. Mark vomited on the side of the cab. A pungent odor soon manifested itself in the cab and I saw the cab driver tense up. After apologizing and promising him a large tip, he continued to drive us the last 15 miles (we were very gracious). We gave the driver $100 and went inside to take shots of vodka. Mark slept in his car.

Be sure this was only one of many, many episodes we encountered in our 48 hour stint. All in all, we conquered San Francisco.

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